


Weathering Storms

by scriptscribbles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Jessika's only in a minor role but she's too cool not to include, M/M, Stormpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5508467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriptscribbles/pseuds/scriptscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can the best damn pilot in the galaxy fly through a freak cosmic storm without waking up his boyfriend? No. Of course he can't.<br/>(I'm so sorry for this but I couldn't resist.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weathering Storms

Drifting through the fields of gleaming stars, tiny pricks of diamond lights gently passing by, Poe was content. More than content, to judge by the big dumb grin across his face. But unusually for him, it wasn't the beautiful view that was making him happy. Nor was it the simple solitary pleasure. of adventuring in his beloved X-Wing through the galaxy. No, it was something simpler and all the more comforting: his boyfriend, Finn, sleeping peacefully, head resting on his shoulder. That was enough.

"Black Leader," a voice interrupted, shattering the moment. "Come in, Black Leader."

Poe flinched, startled, then immediately forced himself to remain still so as to not disturb Finn. "Blue Three?" he whispered, afraid of making too much noise. "How's it going?"

"You really can't take this seriously, can you?" replied Blue Three, the exasperated voice of Jessika Pava startlingly loud in the otherwise silent emptiness of space.

"Never knowingly," Finn admitted, still in hushed tones. "Could you keep it down? Finn's sleeping."

"You brought your Stormtrooper boyfriend on a secret mission for the rebellion?" The incredulity in her voice only increased the volume. Poe tried holding his hands over the communicator grille, but that just muffled the message for him, too. So instead, he put his hands over Finn's ears.

"Ex-Stormtrooper, yeah." Poe always felt the need to stick up for Finn on that.

Pava, for her part, didn't really care about the technicalities. "Does General Organa know?"

"No."

She laughed at that. "I don't know how you've survived this long, Commander Dameron."

"I like to think it's down to my considerable talent, natural good looks, and great sense of humor," he retorted.

"Right," Pava replied, probably rolling her eyes back at the base. "Anyway, got to warn you. Some sort of storm's headed your way."

"Storm?" Now that certainly was unusual. Not exactly the sort of thing you'd expect to see in space.

"More like an anomaly of some kind. We think it's caused by the debris from when the Starkiller activated."

Glancing up from his boyfriend, there it was, a brown stain against the black, growing quickly as it zoomed closer. "I see it," he reported.

"It's coming fast. Really fast," she informed him. "Go around or abort the mission, we don't know what kind of forces this thing is capable of."

"The resistance fighters on Bespin need this intel to beat the First Order," replied Poe. "Can't just abandon them."

"No, Poe, don't do this-"

He fired up the engines of his X-Wing and plunged into the storm, Jessika Pava's voice fading to static. Not that that worried the pilot. He could worry about communication later. The storm was his priority now.

And what a storm it was: flashes of colored lightning between large chunks of shattered worlds, swirling pools of strange gasses and even magma flying around the tiny metal box he called his ship. There he was, a tiny pinprick facing buffeting currents in this hellish landscape in the stars, insignificant and alone as he dove and weaved through the dust that had once been countless inhabited worlds.

Except he wasn't alone. Finn was with him. Finn, jolted around by his frenetic flying. Finn, now awake and very, very confused.

"Should I be panicking right now?" he asked, clinging to Poe without even noticing it. Ordinarily, Poe would have found it quite endearing, but he had bigger issues to worry about, such as getting the two of them out alive to experience future adorable moments.

"I've got it under control," Poe reassured him, just before a severed torso, only the head attached, slammed into the windshield, illuminated by a flash of lightning. It tumbled away into the storm, but a red mark lingered. Finn had to force himself not to scream, and Poe barely kept himself from vomiting, the foul taste of bile creeping into his mouth. He added an amendment to his previous response: "Probably."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to panic," Finn replied, taking deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself down.

"Don't worry," Poe told him, trying to reassure Finn, and, though he wouldn't admit it, himself. "It's just like when we first met. I named you, we blew things up-"

"-we crashed." Finn broke in, as a particularly large chunk narrowly missed the top of the ship, to BB-8's terror, the droid's squeals accompanying the howling gale to form a truly devilish accompaniment to their mortal peril.

"Let's not focus on that part right now."

"Then what part? The naming?"

"Sure!" Poe exclaimed, diving through a crack in a meteorite, pipes from the plumbing of the planet it once was a part of scraping the paintwork. "Let's go with that." The end was in sight, just a bit more hell to endure. That was enough to produce a smile.

"A last name would be nice," mused the ex-Stormtrooper, "Any ideas?"

"2187 isn't a great starting point," Poe told him, surprised he even remembered the whole thing. Finn must have made quite the impression on him, even back then.

"How about Dameron?" Finn asked. "Can I use that?" His eyes were closed now, desperately trying to pretend the storm wasn't there.

"But that's my name!" Poe exclaimed, only half listening. A larger chunk than any of the others was looming up ahead, clear skies beyond it. It was too close to go around, but only a narrow crevice through it providing a potentially viable route. He'd just have plot a course through it and hope the crack went all the way through. Otherwise, this was it.

"Yeah, I thought it would fit!" Finn said. When Poe didn't reply, he opened his eyes, seeing Poe's near-collision course. "You aren't-"

Death was clearly imminent, so Poe relented. "Sure, you can use Dameron," he told him, doubting that Finn would ever get a chance to. "Hold on tight!" he added, though Finn already was. To him.

"I love you," Finn confessed, wrapping his arms around Poe. Blocking his sight of the pass he needed to cut through. Was it Finn? Or was it just the G-forces, color draining, vision failing? Poe flailed blindly at the controls, but it was no use. The earth of a devastated world filled the corners of his vision as they approached the crevice. A sickening lurch came as he yanked in all directions with the controls, and then all went black.

This time, it was Poe who woke to find Finn at the controls. The stars were lazily passing by again, drifting through the black as they approached their destination.

"Finn?" Poe murmured, struggling to sit up. His head was pounding, and his chest felt like a Hutt had been sitting on him, but he was alive.

"You're alive! Great!" Finn smiled down at him.

Poe, still groggy, could only manage the most cliched response of all: "What happened?"

"Your plan worked!" Finn informed him. "Just enough room to get us through, though I think you passed out at the end there."

"Really?" Poe couldn't keep out the sarcasm. "I couldn't have guessed." Finn's innocent smile and nod, though, quickly wiped away the bitterness.

"And I flew us the rest of the way while you slept!" Finn finished proudly. Poe glanced at the charts. The gamble seemed to have paid off; they were approaching Bespin well ahead of schedule.

"And you did a good job of it," Poe told him.

"Just don't go heading into any more storms," Finn pleaded.

Poe raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh, really?" he asked, channeling as much charm as he could muster.

"Yeah," Finn said, "I don't really want to die."

"I think I can see one more storm worth heading into," Poe continued. He was starting to cringe at he cheesiness of the line, but he figured it was worth seeing through.

Finn glanced out into space, baffled. "I don't see anything."

"You're a Stormtrooper."

"Ex-Stormtrooper..." Finn still wasn't getting it.

Poe decided a pat on the bottom was necessary to clarify. "You. I meant you."

"Oh. Got it. That's much better."

"Thought so," Poe grinned. "BB-8, take us home." He'd had enough of dangerous flying for the day. It was time to enjoy himself with Finn.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was all just elaborate set-up for that dirty joke/pickup line. I am sorry.


End file.
